


Scruff

by EtoileGarden



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, beards??, home coming, minor miscomunication, off page sex stuffs, talking it out, uni boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 04:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileGarden/pseuds/EtoileGarden
Summary: One of the weirdest things Adam finds about going to university is in fact, not the going to university bit, but the coming back to Henrietta part.





	Scruff

One of the weirdest things Adam finds about going to university is in fact, not the going to university bit, but the coming back to Henrietta part. 

 

Obviously this is weird because most of his life his big (big, as in written in 100 pt bright red type in his mind) plan had been that he would never, ever, ever come back to Henrietta. It’s also weird because not only is he coming back, but he’s  _ looking forward _ to coming back. It’s weird because their are people there who want him to come back. Weird because there is a warm bed and arms and food waiting for him. 

 

Weirdest because the first time he comes back, during mid-semester break, Ronan has a fucking beard. 

 

-

 

“The fuck is that,” Adam says as he pulls himself out of the front seat of his dream-patched car. 

 

“What?” Ronan snaps. 

 

He’s standing on the front steps of the porch, twitching, as if he’s forcing himself not to bound over to Adam and knock him over onto his back like an over enthusiastic dog. 

 

“On your face” Adam continues, squints theatrically at Ronan, and Ronan scowls heavily back at him. 

 

“Oh great,” Ronan says, finally letting himself loose to walk (jog) to Adam who’s still by the car, “no, ‘I missed you,’s no, ‘baby you look so good,’s no, ‘I’m here, let’s fuck’, straight to the insults. That’s how I know you’re my boyfriend.” 

 

“I would think,” Adam says, huffs a little as Ronan wraps his arms firmly around his middle and tugs him into an extremely tight (and bristly) hug. “That you would know I was your boyfriend due to other reasons.” 

 

“Can’t think of any right now,” Ronan mumbles, is pressing kisses to Adam’s cheeks. Scratchy kisses. “Busy being insulted.” 

 

“I don’t hate it,” Adam interjects, wishes Ronan would shift the kisses an increment over so he could kiss him back properly, but also is really enjoying the cosiness of this hug. 

 

“God,” Ronan says, forgoes kissing for just rubbing his beard against Adam’s cheek, “great. Good. You don’t  _ hate _ it.” 

 

“I mean,” Adam snorts, presses his hands flat against Ronan’s chest, and pushes him a little, not really wanting him to pull away, “I was surprised, is all, you didn’t say you had grown a beard.” 

 

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Ronan says, has his mouth and beard against Adam’s neck now, “I’ve just been busy.” 

 

“Too busy to tame your bushman beard?” 

 

“Mhm,” Ronan says into Adam’s skin, “come inside.” 

 

“I’ve gotta bring my shit in,” Adam points out, feels Ronan’s teeth graze the underside of his jaw. “Or,” Adam concedes, “I guess I could do that later.” 

 

-

 

Later ends up being after a deck blowjob - which is inadvisable for so many reasons - after coffee and kisses in the lounge, after a spontaneous nap in Ronan’s bedroom following a more appropriate location based blowjob. Coming home is very exhausting business. Or, as Ronan says, cumming home is a very exhausting business. He might have grown a beard, but he didn’t grow a good sense of humour while Adam had been gone. 

 

Later also ends up meaning that Ronan is actually the one who goes out and empties Adam’s shit hole car out and brings Adam’s bags and books inside, because Adam, once resting does not move again until acted upon by an outside force. At uni, this outside force tends to be alarms, roommates, and generalised stress. Here, it’s Ronan getting back onto the bed and lying himself out on top of Adam’s back, tucking his face into Adam’s neck, and prickling him awake.  

 

“Wake up,” Ronan says into Adam’s ear, bristly. Adam is already awake, they both know this. 

 

“Whaddya want?” Adam says into the pillow, shuffles his arm uncomfortably so he can reach around himself to hook his fingers into the fabric of Ronan’s shirt. 

 

“I want you to wake up,” Ronan says, “because otherwise you’ll never sleep tonight and you’ll be grumpy as fuck tomorrow.” 

 

“You’re underestimating my ability to sleep whenever,” Adam says, but rolls under Ronan until Ronan’s hooked in Adam’s arms. “I should get my shit in.” 

 

“Your shit’s in,” Ronan tells him, “I did the whole good boyfriend act and brought your stuff in, blah blah. Even put your undies in the drawer.” 

 

“It’s not an act if you’re a good boyfriend naturally,” Adam mumbles, presses a kiss to Ronan’s cheek. “So tell me,” he continues, “the beard?” 

 

“Couldn’t be bothered shaving,” Ronan grunts, “it grows fast. I was overrun before I realised.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam says, “you are a very hairy person.” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan says. 

 

“Yeah,” Adam prompts. 

 

“Also because I was reading some random magazines,” Ronan says, ducks his head against Adam’s shoulder, “while I was at the psychics a couple of weeks ago. They have a  _ lot _ of magazines for people who are related to trees.” 

 

“Get back on topic,” Adam nudges. 

 

“There’s a lot of sex articles,” Ronan says. Says it very fast. Like he thinks that if he’s incomprehensible Adam won’t ask him to repeat it. 

 

“Uh-huh,” Adam says. 

 

“With lots of tips,” Ronan says. 

 

“Uh-huh,” Adam says. 

 

“On how to add - uh - excitement? To the bedroom.”

 

“Ok,” Adam says, “it’s not exciting enough, already?” he teases, and Ronan bites at his shoulder, disgruntled. 

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan says, mouth full. Pulls away. “Of course it is. Just. It’s been awhile.” 

 

“So,” Adam says, “the beard is a sex tip?” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan says, lifts his head up a little so Adam can see his face, which is quite flushed, “I dunno. Apparently something about the added… texture and roughness is supposed to make like… oral sexier? And like - yeah.” 

 

“Ah,” Adam says, “that’s why all the blow jobs.” 

 

“Well,” Ronan scoffs, “that and I fucking love your dick. But yeah. Whatever.” 

 

“I did like it,” Adam admits, “it is kinda sexy. I like the scratch on my thighs.” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Yep. Are you gonna keep it, then?” 

 

“Do you want me to?” 

 

“Ro,” Adam snorts, “I’m not telling you what to do with your face.” 

 

“I’m not asking you to,” Ronan snorts right back, “I’m just asking for your opinion.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam says, “personally I prefer to see your whole face.” 

 

“What about the scratchiness?” 

 

“That’s what stubble is for,” Adam shrugs, “what do you want?” 

 

“I want to shave this itching heat blanket off of my face immediately,” Ronan admits with a short laugh, “also Maura keeps telling me it looks like all the hair fell of my head and got caught on my chin.” 

 

“She’s a little right,” Adam tells him. 

 

“Dick,” Ronan says. “Do you still think I’m sexy, though?” 

 

“Don’t be a dumbass,” Adam laughs, wraps his arms tight around Ronan’s waist, “I always fucking find you sexy. And yeah, you  _ do _ look super sexy with a beard. I saw you and I was like, what the fuck is a mens lingerie model doing on our deck?” 

 

Ronan does not take away what Adam thinks ought to be taken away from this statement. 

 

“Our deck?” 

 

“Ah,” Adam fumbles, “I mean-” 

 

“Nah,” Ronan says, “nah, nah. Don’t take it back if you meant it.” 

 

“It isn’t ours though,” Adam protests, “it’s yours.” 

 

“It’s ours if you want it to be,” Ronan objects, “what’s mine is fucking yours if you want it, Parrish.” 

 

“This better not be a fucking proposal, Lynch,” Adam warns, doesn’t loosen his grip around Ronan. 

 

“It isn’t,” Ronan scoffs, tugs himself out of Adam’s arms and sits up, “I’m gonna go shave,” he announces, hops off of the bed, and leaves the room. 

 

Adam is not entirely sure if there is a problem or not. Thinks that it is probably very unwise to not follow up. 

 

-

 

Ronan is shirtless and already bent over the bathroom sink, water running while he builds a lather up in his hands. 

 

“Hey,” Adam says from the doorway. 

 

Ronan brings the lather to his face, spreads it over his beard. “Hey,” he says. 

 

“Need a hand?” Adam asks.

 

“Nah,” Ronan says, then, “actually, grab my razor?” 

 

“Dream one?” Adam asks, pushing away from the doorway and coming in to open the cupboard opposite the sink. 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan says. 

 

Adam grabs the razor, crosses over to Ronan and leans in against his back while he places the razor down on the bench. 

 

“Hey,” Adam says. 

 

“Hey,” Ronan repeats, holds the razor under the running water. 

 

“I love you,” Adam says, “you know that, yeah?”

 

“Obviously,” Ronan snorts.

 

“Ronan,” Adam says, checks to make sure the razor is nowhere near Ronan’s face and squeezes his sides, “you know that, yeah?” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan says, “I love you too.”

 

“Are you mad?” 

 

“Why would I be mad?” 

 

Adam squeezes him again. 

 

“I’m not mad,” Ronan sighs, “it wasn’t a fucking proposal.” 

 

“I know it wasn’t a serious proposal,” Adam says. 

 

Ronan brings the razor to his face, draws a short clear line through the foam. 

 

“I’m not mad,” Ronan repeats again slowly, careful not to move his face too much while the blades are pressed to his skin, “I’m - and I’m not hurt. I just - I think you’re reading into it a little too much.” 

 

“Probably,” Adam admits. He’s still leaning in against Ronan’s back, propping his chin up on Ronan’s shoulder so he can watch Ronan’s face in the mirror. “But you are upset.” 

 

It’s very satisfying watch the dream razor do its work; clean lines of Ronan’s skin appearing all pink and a little sudsy. He shaves half a cheek before rinsing the blades out under the water again, lifting his eyes in the mirror to meet Adam’s. 

 

“I do want to,” Ronan says to the mirror, “I know you know I want to. Not yet, but, like, one day. I’m in this for good.” 

 

“I know,” Adam says to Ronan’s temple, “there’s no way I’m getting married while I’m at uni, though,” he says. 

 

Ronan’s still holding the razor under the running water, water running clear around it. Adam reaches down into the sink, takes it from his hand. 

 

“Can I?” Adam asks. 

 

“Sure,” Ronan says, pulls his hands from the sink to grip the edge of the counter. 

 

Adam watches his hands carefully in the mirror, holds Ronan’s face gently in his empty hand. 

 

“I’ve known since like, the first fucking month we were dating that that’s what you wanted, one day,” Adam says slowly, moving his hand smoothly. “I wouldn’t have kept dating you if I was against that.” 

 

“You would’ve just dumped me?” Ronan asks, when Adam lowers his hand to rinse the razor again quickly, “You wouldn’t wait for me to change my mind?”

 

“No,” Adam says, “I don’t want you to change your mind. That’s not the point, though, Ro. The point is that I’m not against it. The point is that it fucking scares me, and I don’t  _ want  _ to marry you yet because I’m not ready for it, but I know I will be. So I’m like - ha - I’m scared you’re gonna propose to me before I can say a proper yes, because I don’t want to say no.” 

 

“It wasn’t a proposal,” Ronan reiterates to the mirror. He looks very funny half shaven. “I wouldn’t fucking propose to you until I thought you were ready.” 

 

“So we’re on the same page?” Adam asks, starts on the other side of Ronan’s face, “Not yet, but one day?” 

 

“Does this mean we’re unofficially engaged?” Ronan asks, a hint of teasing his voice.

 

“No,” Adam says firmly, “we’re not engaged until I put a fucking ring on your finger. Not a moment before.” 

 

“It’s like that, huh?” Ronan says. His cheeks are twitching under Adam’s hands, so Adam pulls the razor away for a moment. “You’re gonna be the one ringing me?” 

 

“I expect a ring from you too,” Adam says, “hold still a moment.” 

 

-

 

Even without a strange beard, coming home, wanting to be home, is weird. Lying in bed with Ronan in the dark, Ronan’s skin already prickling up with stubble under Adam’s hand. It’s weird, because he fucking belongs here. He’s allowed to say dumb shit. He’s allowed to not want things. To want things too. To talk it out. Weird because this is his place and he feels okay about that. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! If you like my writing feel free to come yell at me on my Tumblr etoilearden.tumblr.com


End file.
